


Midnight Texting

by Dreamin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Mycroft's working late on Christmas Eve when he gets a text from a number he doesn't recognize.





	Midnight Texting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



It was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve and Mycroft Holmes was still at the office, working. He’d sent Anthea home to her girlfriend hours ago and now it was just him and a transcript of a call between two enemies of the UK.

At 12.01, his mobile chirped.

**Ho ho ho.**

The number wasn’t one he recognized. Assuming it was a wrong number, he went back to his work.

Two minutes later, the phone chirped again.

**Have you been naughty or nice? Please say naughty. ;)**

It was the same number. Giving into his curiosity, he responded.

**Who is this?**

The reply was nearly instantaneous. **Who do you want me to be?**

An image came to mind – his muscular, ginger-haired, blue-eyed sniper, Sebastian Moran.

The man he’d lusted after even before he recruited him following Jim and Sherlock’s encounter on the roof of Bart’s.

The man he found himself falling in love with the more he got to know him.

The man who knew none of this.

Mentally shaking his head, Mycroft typed out a reply.

**Someone who doesn’t text perfect strangers.**

Again, the reply came almost immediately. **Then it’s a good thing we’re not strangers.**

Unable to resist, Mycroft called the number.

“‘Bout bloody time, Mike,” came the familiar, amused rumble. “Thought you were gonna call back after the first text.”

“Why would I do that, Sebastian, when I didn’t recognize the number?” he asked, then added, “And it’s Mycroft.”

“That’s too formal.”

“I’m in the office.”

“Yeah, on Christmas, when there’s no one else left in the building. The way I see it, I can call you whatever I want right now.”

Mycroft smirked, wanting to take control of the situation. “Only until I hang up on you.”

The call disconnected. Mycroft was staring at his phone, wondering if Sebastian had driven into a no-reception area, when the door opened and Sebastian walked in, grinning.

“I had a feeling you’d say that.” He wore boots, dark blue jeans, a grey jumper, and a green jacket Mycroft suspected was from the man’s time in the Army. “Grab your stuff and let’s go.”

“And where, might I ask, are you taking me?” Mycroft asked, aiming for imperious but his voice was a lot more breathless than he would’ve liked.

Sebastian’s grin widened. “I’m taking you to your place then in the morning, we’ll go to your parents’.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, ignoring the way his stomach flipped. “‘We?’”

His grin turning wicked, Sebastian approached his desk then leaned over it, bracing his hands on the desk blotter. “Yeah, ‘we,’” he murmured. “I’ve waited long enough for you to notice I’m mad about you, Mike. I thought this would be a good time to take matters into my own hands.”

Silently praying to Heaven (a place he no longer believed in) that this wasn’t a dream, Mycroft took Sebastian’s face in his hands and kissed him softly.

* * *

His mother lightly smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you tell us you had a boyfriend, Mikey?”

Mycroft looked across his parents’ kitchen at his boyfriend. Sebastian was entertaining his father with one of his tamer war stories when he felt his gaze. He looked up at him and grinned.

“I would have, Mum,” Mycroft said, “but it was all very sudden.”

“Well,” Violet said, “at least he got you to loosen up a bit.”

Mycroft chuckled. “Yes, I’m in good hands.” He looked over at Sebastian once more. _And I’m counting the hours until I’m in them again._


End file.
